


The acorn dreams the oak

by DaceyBear



Series: Arya x Gendry week [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arya X Gendry Week, F/M, Headcanon, Post-Canon, axg week 2020, axgweek2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25756126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaceyBear/pseuds/DaceyBear
Summary: A snippet of the journey south after the war for the dawn is won. What does the return of spring means for Gendry? Fear, that's what it means.Written for prompt 1: The Return of Spring
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Willow Heddle & Gendry Waters
Series: Arya x Gendry week [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1868434
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	The acorn dreams the oak

**Author's Note:**

> I had no idea it was axgweek! Trying to catch up. 
> 
> The title for this is part of a quote from the ghost of high heart: "For the oak recalls the acorn, the acorn dreams the oak, the stump lives in them both." Very ominous, but very cyclic, and it made me think of seasons, thus...

There was fear in him. He had been excited upon leaving Winterfell; at the Barrowlands he had still felt content; when they reached the Neck contentment turned into a confused uneasiness; it was under Moat Cailin's shadows that he realized he was afraid. The long ride south had offered time enough for Gendry to come to terms with the dread. _If she's dead, what will that be like? If they're all dead?_ She had been a pain in his ass, but he found he missed her ever since he left.

When the first glimpse of the curtain wall appeared between the trees, he brought his horse to a halt and stayed put. The small column passed him, but for one knight. 

"Brother." It was just one word, but it said one hundred things. 

"What?" He asked the Lord of Starfall. 

"Why did you stop?"

"We don't know what’s waiting us in there." 

"We won't find out by staying here." Ned’s eyes were truly purple under the sun. He gave Gendry a meaningful look and set his horse to a trot to catch with the riders ahead. Gendry followed at a gallop.

 _It was wise to wait for the return of spring_ , Gendry told himself. _It was._ It had been beautiful, the ride south. The sun was shining more often than not, its light kissing patches of green grass and colorful flowers that had bloomed with the season. Below the Neck, there had been no snow to be seen. _We could not have come sooner._ The woods witches of the wildlings knew more of spring than the maesters of the Citadel, apparently. Gendry had been waiting restlessly for the end of the winter, for the snows to clear, so he could come down and find Willow and the others, the children he'd left behind. Some wouldn't even be children anymore, really. _If they still live._ When the white raven reached Winterfell, the party was almost ready to leave. Arya had asked him if he wanted to see the bird, but what was the point? He wanted to go at once, so he did. It was defeating the Others that brought about the spring, some said. If it were true, it should have been faster. Winter lingered after the fighting was done. 

The column was tight. They bore no banners, carried no haralds, held no standards. He slowed some when he reached the first rider. Arya rode a chestnut mare, strong and obedient; she would brush the horse’s coat herself in the evenings when they made camp.

“That mare of yours,” he said. "Was you who named her?”

“You know it was.” She looked puzzled. Gendry liked to see Arya's face change when he spoke. She wasn't earnest with most, he'd learned.

“So taken you are with me, you named your horse after me!” He teased, more himself than her, really. 

She laughed then, but it didn't ease the heaviness in his chest. "I named her after another horse I once rode. She was a good horse, looked like this one.” When he didn’t answer, she added, “I could never love a coward.”

“I _feel_ craven, though.”

“What is it you fear?”

He looked ahead of him to the stone walls. He could see smoke coming out of chimneys now, but the gates were closed. 

“Acorn Hall. What if this coming here spoils every good thing we got with the return of spring?"

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little scene that I imagine taking place in the same universe as my other, multi-chapter fic. In that story, Willow and the orphans moved from the inn to Acorn Hall before the war for the dawn. This is the link for that fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25614373/chapters/62173423


End file.
